


Dead Or Alive

by SophieSwiftieSammy



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Alternate Canon, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Implied/Referenced Incest, Multi, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 12:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17529191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieSwiftieSammy/pseuds/SophieSwiftieSammy
Summary: Miguel was a normal twelve-year-old boy... kind of. Well. If "stealing", as that man with the papers said, from the dead and turning up in the Land Of The Dead among skeletons and your dead relatives counted as normal, then sure. And why had Miguel stolen from the dead in the first place?.. That aren't the right words! Miguel did NOT steal, he just borrowed his great-great-grandpa's guitar... right? Well, that was one hell of a surprise. Ernesto de la Cruz was family?! It kind of made sense, but at the same time it didn't. It would explain Miguel's love for music, but... Why had his family never mentioned him then? Sure it would be a bad example for Miguel, but they didn't know of his obsession with the musician... right?





	Dead Or Alive

Miguel was a normal twelve-year-old boy... kind of. Well. If "stealing", as that man with the papers said, from the dead and turning up in the Land Of The Dead among skeletons and your dead relatives counted as normal, then sure. And why had Miguel stolen from the dead in the first place?.. That aren't the right words! Miguel did NOT steal, he just borrowed his great-great-grandpa's guitar... right? Well, that was one hell of a surprise. Ernesto de la Cruz was family?! It kind of made sense, but at the same time it didn't. It would explain Miguel's love for music, but... Why had his family never mentioned him then? Sure it would be a bad example for Miguel, but they didn't know of his obsession with the musician... right?

But now wasn't the time for questioning anything. Miguel had just escaped the awful fate of never playing his guitar again and he needed to be extra quick and smart to somehow find de la Cruz, get his blessing and return home safely, and preferably without any stupid conditions. Like never playing music again.

The boy was tip-toeing down the street of this amazing place trying not to get noticed. Unfortunately, this particular street wasn't as pretty as the others he'd seen during his not-so-long stay. It was a small, dark alley with disgusting smells and weird sounds. Miguel was sure he'd heard a dog barking somewhere in the distance, but there wasn't any other dog except Dante... Wait a minute.

"Dante!" Miguel called, barely whispering but hoping his faithful dog would hear him nonetheless. "Dante! Where are you? Why do you..." He didn't have a chance to finish because there suddenly were voices behind him but... The only thing behind him was a brick wall.

"Don't play these games with me, amigo!" A rough man's voice demanded, and Miguel but his lip. Dante was still nowhere to be seen, so the wall was the only thing that protected him from the possible harm.

"Amigo!.. How touching!" Another voice said, but this one seemed younger and it was shaking. Wait... Miguel knew this voice. This was that bizarre crazy-looking man from the bridge! He'd been trying to get through, but the customs had stopped him. So he'd been sued or what? Law wasn't Miguel's forte but... It was entirely possible the first man was a police officer. And that other man had done something wrong. Apparently, you weren't allowed to cross the damned bridge if there was no photo on the ofrenda or whatever the name was. "Amigos, they help each other, you know", the man continued. "Oh! You like de la Cruz! I can get you tickets for his Sunrise Spectacular! Front row! All you have to do is just let me cross that bridge tonight."

Oh. So this bridge thing was a big deal then? No wonder Imelda was so furious when she couldn't cross over. Wait. He said de la Cruz? That was interesting. Maybe Miguel should reconsider his first impression of the guy.

Meanwhile, the police officer was shouting again. Miguel didn't really care, but... well. He didn't want that man to end up in jail, especially since he was probably his only chance.

At that moment the poor guy walked out of the police station, and Miguel took off after him, not even noticing Dante joining him.

"Hey! Hey! You know de la Cruz?" The boy screamed.

"Well, what do you... Ahh!" The guy gawked at him in horror. Right, there was no way he hadn't noticed Miguel wasn't dead just yet. He had probably heard that announcement about a living boy too, so he was going to give him away. Unless...

Miguel rolled his eyes and pushed the surprisingly light young man into an old phone booth.

"Quiet!" He hissed. "Hey there. So you know de la Cruz?"

"That's a... strange question" the man said, trailing off. Right now they were incredibly close, closer than anyone had ever been to Miguel before. The man was... odd, but kind of beautiful in his own way. His raven hair stuck out from under his poorly made hat, his eyes were too big and his clothes left much to be desired. But his awkwardly shocked face contorted in a strangely pretty way, and behind his eyes Miguel could see a man with good intentions who was so disappointed and scared when he failed every single time. "Aren't you that living boy?"

"Yeah, well... I'm Miguel. Nice to meet you. I... De la Cruz is my great-great-grandpa, and I need his blessing to return to the land of the living."

"Wait... what?" The man's eyes widened. "Ah, um... wait. Okay, so I... Nevermind," he smiled awkwardly. "My name is Hector. A-are you sure about that? I mean, de la Cruz being your, ah..."

"Yes" Miguel said firmly. "And I need you to help me get to him."

"You see, Miguel..." Hector began but was cut off. Outside there were all too familiar voices, and they had to get out of here. Quickly. So, Miguel unceremoniously grabbed Hector by the hand and darted out of the phone booth, trying to make it to the exit before his family spotted him. No way he was going to get caught now when he finally met the guy who could lead him to his dream.

 

**

 

"Where is that boy?" Imelda rolled her eyes and cried angrily. "He's nothing but trouble! He spends five minutes in here and now I have to chase him all through the Land Of The Dead!"

"Yeah, well" Oscar scratched his head. "Not that I appreciate his actions, but I can see why he did this. No offense, Imelda", he added quickly under the strict woman's stare.

"Do you have any ideas where he could have gone?" Rosita looked at the others questioningly. "It's not like he knows everything around here, after all, he's just entered this world."

"He said something about Ernesto de la Cruz" Imelda said thoughtfully. "Although I can't explain why he thinks he's family."

All the others gasped. They hadn't heard Miguel saying anything about de la Cruz.

"We will not be able to find him on our own" Imelda continued. "So I will need my spirit guide, Pepita."

She whistled, and immediately an enormous Alebrija came flying down to her feet. Just when she was about to hand it the petal Miguel had touched, Julio quietly asked, "Did Miguel say anything about... that man you never speak of?"

Imelda turned one-eighty on her heels to face Julio. "We do not say anything about that man!" She raised her voice to what sounded more like a shout. "He is a disgrace who abandoned his family! You should never, EVER mention him again! And there is no way Miguel knows anything about him! And now," as continued more calmly. "Be quiet. We will follow Pepita to my great-great-grandson before he makes the greatest mistake of his life."

 

 **

 

Meanwhile, Miguel was pacing nervously up and down the small chunk of a street he and Hector were currently on. It was under a dark, gloomy bridge so they (mostly Miguel) wouldn't get noticed. The boy was really worried and scared; Hector wouldn't say why he was helping him anyway and what his problem was. But Miguel understood him somehow, he wasn't too keen on spilling his heart out to Hector just yet. But another thing made Miguel nervous as well: the I-Really-Need-To-Get-Home-Before-Dawn part. Otherwise, well... Miguel's hand was already too bone-y; he was frightened to even look at it.

"Hey Hector" Miguel called for what seemed like the umpteenth time this hour. "Why are you so turned up about leading me to de la Cruz? I mean, I know he's a busy man but..."

"Miguel" Hector sighed. "No matter how many times you reword that question, the answer remains the same. It's really not your business."

"But Hector" the boy protested. "We are... kind of buddi- amigos now. If you want to help me, I need to know why. Who knows what a stranger in an unfamiliar world has up his sleeve."

"You see" Hector audibly bit his non-existing lip and stirred something in his hands. "When your photo isn't on any ofrenda, you don't get to cross over that bridge. And I, like, really really need to. Got some business in the living world. So I wanted to ask you a favor but kind of wanted to save it for later. Here" he waved his hand, gesturing for Miguel to come closer. He did, and what he found in his hands the next second was a photograph. He didn't have the chance to ask when Hector continued, "I get you to de la Cruz and then he gets you home" here he looked away for some unknown reason. "And then you put my photo up. Okay? I just need to do it once."

"So this is you" Miguel looked at the photo. It was a picture of a man in his twenties, a very attractive man, if the boy was honest. He had long black hair, very nicely laid over his head in a kind of hat. His eyes were a nice brown color, and his thin mouth was curled into a smirk.

"Like what you see?" Hector joked and promptly waited until Miguel went red. "Yeah, that's me. At least that WAS me. Until, you know."

"Yeah..." Miguel said, drifting away somewhere. He couldn't explain why, but when Hector opened up just a little bit, it seemed to make Miguel's world a thousand times better. "So" he said, sobering up. "I get to de la Cruz, get his blessing and return to the land of the living, put up your photo so that you can cross over and then we're done. Deal?"

Hector seemed to think it over and worry a hundred times before he finally said, "Deal."

He then grinned. "Come here" he said. "We need to do something before we go to find de la Cruz."

Miguel looked around nervously. What did Hector mean? What was he holding in his hands? The boy put the photograph in his jeans pocket and approached even closer. Hector only smiled and kneeled down, finally revealing what he was holding - two small light cans, one with white paint, one with black.

"Let's make you look more like a skeleton, or our plan's never gonna work" Hector said. "Look up now, amigo. It's gonna be cold but I can't do any thing about it, sorry."

Instantly Miguel felt a freezing blob touch his face. The sensation went everywhere, from his forehead to his nose, then eyebrows, cheeks, lips and chin. And then Hector's hands began smoothing out the paint, and they were so warm, warmer than Miguel had imagined. They gently touched every area of his face, wiping the excess white mess and making him look more believable. After that, Hector took the other can and scooped some black on his fingers only to return to Miguel's face once again and make big circles around his eyes and a small triangle nose. Then the man suddenly looked away and hesitated.

"What's wrong?" Miguel asked.

"Nothing" Hector said quickly. "Hey, you look like a real skeleton! I like that!" And then Hector quickly took some more black and drew the nets on the boy's lips. "Now it's done. Finally, we can go on our adventure!"

Miguel laughed and stepped back a little, giving Hector space to rise to his feet. After all, he wouldn't do much good on his knees?..

 

**

 

Miguel felt that there was something wrong when they approached an old-looking building and the street was completely silent. He looked around, clinging closer to Hector as they stopped right under a window.

"Is my great-great-grandpa here?" Miguel asked carefully, looking up at Hector.

"It's where he's supposed to rehearse" he replied, taking off an arm and sending it flying up to knock on the window. The sound scared Miguel because the street was awfully quiet and gloomy, and the sound of knocking was very, VERY audible in that silence.

"You better have my dress, Hector!" A woman cried from behind the window and then snapped it open, sending a ladder down to the ground. Hector's arm returned to its rightful owner, and then the two climbed up the steps into what looked like a dressing room.

The woman was currently fixing a dress on a mannequin, straightening the edges and flattening the skirt to let it flow. She immediately switched her attention to them, however, once they were fully inside.

While Hector and the woman were arguing about something, Miguel got the chance to look around. It really was a dressing room which was filled with many, many identical-looking dresses. But one of the mannequins was empty, and Miguel guessed it was Hector's fault. He began doubting the man could actually lead him to de la Cruz due to his forgetfulness and his awful habit of lying to everyone. He'd told the police officer he could get front row tickets to the musician's show, but later it turned out to be a lie. It was because of Hector that he was standing in this odd room and listening to them while pacing around nervously. But at the same time there was something about the man. It was... Miguel didn't know how to explain it, but he felt quite nice around him. It was... comforting to be in Hector's presence and... well.

Miguel didn't have the name for that feeling he had when Hector was around. Perhaps it was the feeling of belonging? But why would you go all red and shy next to that person? It's not like anything Miguel'd ever had before. It was weird: Hector was just a guy he'd met on his way to his destiny! He couldn't have anything to do with him! They weren't even proper friends, just buddies or something. Then why did Miguel blush every time Hector touched him? Sure it wasn't because he was ashamed of something...

Meanwhile, the woman shouted something and stomped away angrily into another room. Hector sighed and approached Miguel, clapping his shoulder.

"Guess we don't have anything to do here anymore, amigo" he said, smiling sadly. "Your great-great-grandpa isn't here. He's in his tower hosting a party. No way we're going to get there. Sorry, Miguel."

"What?! Are you kidding me?!" The boy shouted. "How am I gonna get home then? If you haven't noticed, I'm turning into a skeleton!"

"It's okay, we'll think of something, amigo." Hector said, and suddenly Miguel felt like believing him. Of course Hector would find a way. THEY would find a way.

This "way" that they had found was, however, nothing that Miguel had ever expected. They would sneak in the tower where de la Cruz hosted his party and let him face the facts. What shocked Miguel was that Hector was reluctant to see de la Cruz face-to-face and that he only agreed to lead the boy inside. Miguel wasn't completely against this plan but... Something was wrong here. Hector was surprisingly silent about what kept him wanting to cross the bridge. The boy expected that the dead would boast about why they came to the living world over and over again, and maybe the majority was like that. But Hector wasn't, and it scared Miguel a little. There just had to be something that he missed, something that even the annual humiliation was worth. Could it be... no. According to what Miguel already knew, Hector had died long before Miguel was even born so... it couldn't be a girlfriend. She'd be dead now. Maybe a... child? That was, on the other hand, entirely possible. If that child was about mama Coco's age then they could be still alive. But what if... what if they're the only person who know Hector? What happens when they die? Maybe... maybe that was why Hector was so anxious to cross the bridge now.

"Hey Hector" Miguel called, bumping against the man beside him.

"Yes Miguel?"

"What... what happens when there's no one in the living world who remembers you? No one who could possibly put your photo up? Does it mean you'll never cross that bridge again?"

That... wasn't really a topic they'd discussed before. But somehow Miguel was sure Hector would answer.

"It's more complicated than that, Miguel" Hector sighed. "You see... what keeps us alive, for the lack of a better word, are memories. Memories that are passed down from the people who knew us back when we were alive. Even if they don't put our photos up, we still exist while we exist in their memories. Think of that saying "the dead live in our hearts". It's kind of... the same thing, only it's real. When there's no one left in the living world who remembers us, we disappear from this one. We call it the final death."

"O-oh" Miguel hung his head. So if they screwed up and Miguel was left in here, Hector would most likely die. Actually, this man's fate depended on Miguel, on a twelve-year-old boy. He stopped for a second and then hugged Hector tight. "Look... I'm sorry. We should hurry up." The boy felt like he was about to burst in tears.

"Hey, hey" Hector stopped too and held Miguel in his arms, trying to get him to calm down. "Listen. I should've told you earlier, it's all my fault..."

"No, no, I should've done something earlier so you'd have more chances... I didn't know it was a matter of life and death not only for me, but for you too... I'm sorry I doubted you..."

"It's okay, Miguel, it's okay" Hector smiled down at him, hugging him tighter. "No one's blaming you here. You didn't know. I just... lets get going, okay?"

"Fine, just... give me one more second" Miguel muffled into the man's chest. He didn't want Hector to let him go. He hoped they could stay just a little longer. That scared Miguel, and he began wiggling in Hector's arms trying to get out to hide his blush. Hector groaned lightly and mumbled something along the lines of "You stay where you are, amigo" and let him rest against him fully. It felt like a wonder.

 

**

 

Imelda was close. She just felt that she was. All the others were hopeless, looking around in hopes to see the familiar red hoodie. But Pepita was certain about her movements, and that meant Miguel was somewhere around. Imelda couldn't just give up now, now that she could finally send the stupid little boy home before he made a huge mistake.

Suddenly, there was a splash of brown right next to one of Pepita's feet. Imelda instantly ordered her to stop and jumped down to see what it was. And she was right about what it could have been.

It was Dante. The dog was jumping around happily and wailing his tail. But he certainly wasn't acting like that because he'd seen Miguel's family. He was looking at something in the distance and barking at it. Imelda turned to see what it was... and thought she could faint right then and there.

It was Miguel. She'd finally found the rogue boy but... there was someone else with him. Imelda wasn't so sure about her attitude to de la Cruz but this... oh she was so mad. That man dared to hug her great-great-grandson! Of course, Miguel couldn't have known, right? But maybe he'd told him. That was entirely possible. But he couldn't have recognized Miguel, he'd never seen him in his life! But whatever this was, it had to end. Right now.

 

Miguel heard someone screaming his name and only in a second did he realize just who it was. Oh no. They had to get out of here, quick. But it was too late already.

"Miguel! Come over here, I don't want to play these games with you anymore!" Mama Imelda shouted, approaching them. Miguel didn't even have time to react when he was grabbed by the hood and yanked out of Hector's arms.

"Hey!" he protested but wasn't heard. Mama Imelda was titanium.

"What do you think you're doing here, Miguel?!" she asked him. "Instead of getting your blessing and going home right away you run off somewhere and now you're here with... this man!"

"But Hector hadn't done anything bad! He just wanted to..." Miguel was suddenly cut off by Hector.

"Wait wait wait" he said, staring at him intently. "So you're her... no, no, wait, that can't be true..." Hector shook his head. Miguel couldn't understand what was wrong and why Hector looked so disgusted.

"Do you..." and he was interrupted once again, but this time by mama Imelda.

"Let's not make this moment last longer than it needs to, okay? We find a petal, and you go home my way or no way." She said strictly.

"But what about Hector?" Miguel protested. "I promised I'd put his photo up so that he can cross the bridge..."

"You are not allowed to be here any longer, Miguel! It happens my way or no way, as I said earlier."

"But can you just tell me why I can't be with him?! I want to know!" The boy demanded, stomping his foot on the ground and trying to break free.

"We do not speak of that. No more! Now you" mama Imelda grabbed Miguel by the hand. "Are coming with us. Take your stupid dog if you want but you get away from here! NOW."

And mama Imelda dragged Miguel from the spot he was standing on, calling on Dante and walking towards all the other relatives. And Miguel could only scream Hector's name and wonder what he'd done wrong.

 

**

 

"Miguel?!"

"Miguel!"

"Miguel!!!"

It was his family. They were all screaming his name and cheering when Pepita landed with her three passengers - mama Imelda, Miguel and Dante. Of course, Miguel would rather it be four, but... for some reason mama Imelda looked at Hector like he was a traitor of some sort, no less. The boy couldn't understand that and just wished she'd explain her behavior. Maybe he'd even listen to her and accept her requirements to go back to the living world, which, unfortunately, included no music. But he'd take that. If only she'd tell him the TRUTH! Why is it that no one ever tells him anything?! Not Hector (well, he actually did say something, but Miguel still didn't know what kept him trying to cross the bridge and SHIT Hector still had his photo), not his living relatives, not his dead ones! Miguel just wanted to know the truth for once.

"Miguel! I'm so glad you're safe now!" Tia Rosita smiled and hugged Miguel so tight he almost felt his bones crush. "We thought you were kidnapped! Or worse!"

"No, tia Rosita, I'm completely safe. And I WAS safe! Until, well, mama Imelda deemed my company unworthy."

"He was around this... this disgrace! Offender! I have no words to describe him!" Mama Imelda shouted, waving her arms.

"Then could you tell me what he's done? Because I only saw a lost man who was simply trying to get to the land of the living to his beloved or something but instead got a punch in the gut and an arrest every goddamn time!" Miguel cried, hoping to get some sense into mama Imelda.

"Wait wait wait" Papa Julio interrupted. "Weren't you around that infamous criminal? I think you were. I've seen him looking for some black dye around here. Perhaps it was meant for you."

"Criminal?!" Miguel asked incredulously. "No way. Well, maybe he is. But al he's ever done is try to cross the bridge!"

"He's a liar" Tio Philippe chided, brushing Miguel's hair out of his eyes. "And a thief. How do you think he's trying to trick the customs every time? He steals costumes. He lies his way through the police department. Hell, I've heard him say he knows de la Cruz! That's the worst attempt at lying I've ever heard."

"But perhaps he does!" Miguel protested. "What makes you think he does not?"

"Well, maybe the fact that de la Cruz is a famous musician, and he's a... a tramp!" Tio Oscar rolled his eyes.

"Miguel" mama Imelda sighed. "There is no way I will let you go back to this man again. He's the worst person you could've met. Now, will you accept my blessing or not?"

Miguel but his lip and looked st his hand. It was slowly turning to bones, and he knew he didn't have much time before he died. But maybe...

The last time Miguel broke his promise in the department he ended up in the same place from where he'd been sent back. Maybe he could wait a little until his family was gone and then return here... but what for? Hector was just a passerby... right? Miguel would return to the land of the living and never play music again... ah. Right. De la Cruz was also family, so he could possibly find Hector and try to reach de la Cruz through him... wait. Actually, every thought and pathway involving the land of the dead somehow revolved around Hector. Why? Miguel didn't have an answer ready, and his family wasn't about to give it to him. But... maybe HE could get it. By getting back here and finding de la Cruz and Hector and finally understanding all that mess with his past and those weird things Hector had said and done.

Yes. That was the best plan Miguel could come up with.

"So?" Mama Imelda prompted.

"I accept" Miguel sighed, pursing his lips and trying not to blush.

"Miguel" she then began, holding the petal." I give you my blessing to return home, put my photo back on the ofrenda and never play music again."

Miguel reached for the petal then and prayed his plan would work. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

 

Hector was just sitting against a wall and thinking back on what had happened. Imelda... why had she come at such a bad timing?! He was so close to developing a plan that would actually WORK and the kid... no, MIGUEL would be sent home. Sure, it would have been much easier to just hand him over to his family and have his photo put on the ofrenda but... if Miguel didn't want Imelda's blessing, then something was off, and Hector trusted the boy enough to believe he had a good reason. But what could he do now? Miguel sure wouldn't want to be sent home now. He'd run away, most probably. But where would he go? The easiest way to find him would, of course, be the police. But it was too risky because if they found out Miguel was still living they'd likely send him to the Riveras before Hector, as they sure would have called for him by now. But Hector couldn't search the whole city all alone. And well... what was the rush? OH. Right. How could he have forgotten?!

If Miguel was related to the Riveras then he was related to Hector. He was his great-great-grandson. Oh well... shit. Miguel thought that he was related to de la Cruz for some reason, but he wasn't actually. Imelda was never married to de la Cruz, she was married to Hector. So... Miguel would probably be searching for de la Cruz once he found his way out from his family. Hector didn't know what kept the boy away from all of them, but he kind of suspected he did. Music. The kid... no, Miguel was a musician. He'd told him. So, now was Hector's time to get Miguel to find out the truth. But what lengths would he go to to save his great-great-grandson?

Hector had kind of suspected there was some bond between them from the start. It was so easy to get along with Miguel and tell him everything. But by now Hector wasn't sure their bond didn't extend somewhere beyond normal family love. Him? He was done with love and crushes and all that bullshit forever. He'd had enough of broken hearts after Imelda had deserted him. But Miguel was just a normal almost-teenage boy. And even though it was stupid to think Miguel had a crush on him... that was entirely possible. The way he'd looked at Hector and blushed when being painted on were sure signs of it. Hector, as a great-great-grandfather was supposed to feel disgusted, but he wasn't somehow. Even though he was done with falling in love... it didn't mean Miguel was. And if he'd chosen him, well, that could only be flattering. And anyway... Hector would probably murder anyone who fell into Miguel's category of potential crushes. "Why?" was a good question here, but Hector preferred to ignore it along with something resembling a quickened pulse inside of him. What was that?

But now wasn't the time to think about feelings, whether they were his or Miguel's. Now it was time to save the boy and get him home safe before he found he was mistaken about de la Cruz and it was sunrise. Yes. Hector needed to do something.

Now, to actually save Miguel Hector needed to think where he'd go. Probably, no, most definitely, the kid would head off to de la Cruz, screw him. No, Hector didn't really have anything against the man; they used to be friends, after all. But... he felt there was something off in their relationship. Again. It seemed Hector couldn't build one relationship without problems. But those things aside, really. What had happened between him and de la Cruz could only be described as weird. They had played together for quite a long time and then... Hector wanted to go home. He packed his things, and de la Cruz walked him to the train station. But on the way there Hector died. It was, of course, a coincidence, but an odd one indeed. But he had to forget everything that had ever happened between them, if he didn't stop Miguel before he got to de la Cruz (and he WOULD get there, one way or another) then the kid would surely die either because the sun would rise or, well... de la Cruz might not believe him and send him to prison or worse. So, Hector needed to act quickly to have Miguel next to him before de la Cruz. But how? Where could he go? He could try retracing Imelda's steps, but that would bring him nowhere. He didn't have an alebrija or a nose that knew the way to go. The only way was to actually go to de la Cruz's party house and intercept Miguel there. That was the only way that could work. So, Hector gathered his pride and strength and braced himself for the long journey first to the police station to steal his dress back and then enter the party, praying the actual Frida Kahlo wasn't there yet. Other stuff didn't matter when Miguel's life was in danger.

 

**

 

Miguel came to lying down on the hard concrete floor of de la Cruz' tomb. There were still lots of petals, outside it was still dark, and the guitar was still on the floor within arm's reach. Miguel extended his arm but faltered. If he broke his vow too soon, mama Imelda might notice and then he'd be yelled at so hard he may lose his hearing. So, he had to wait. But for how long? That, Miguel didn't know. What he did know was that there was more than enough time to think his plan over. What was he going to do once he came back to the Land Of The Dead? Sure he couldn't just search for Hector all around the city. But, he'd said... maybe, just maybe his great-great-grandpa really knew Hector. That could make it much easier indeed. But what his deceased relatives had said couldn't seem to leave Miguel alone. Criminal... Thief... Liar... Lies his way through the department... Perhaps he lied his way through Miguel as well? Just to get what he wanted. He just... pretended to understand, to be his friend, to really be that person he'd tell about... that would really suck. But there was something off here, his family couldn't have known only what they'd told him. There was something else, something Miguel couldn't quite grasp. A missing piece. If only someone could tell him... Well, the only one who actually could was Ernesto. If Hector had told the truth, Miguel would find out. He just had to ask. Oh, and maybe they'd get to see each other again before Miguel truly went home. If de la Cruz was kind enough. And if Hector had lied... then screw hi- wait.

Miguel went completely red, silently praying to all the gods he knew he was still covered in paint because mama Imelda had forgotten to wash it all off. Miguel didn't want to hurt Hector even if he hadn't been honest with him. It was because... because there was this feeling, the feeling of belonging and calmness, and also... also that raced heartbeat and red cheeks. He remembered thinking about it before, in the dressing room, but it wasn't as intense back then. Over time, it seemed to only strengthen and dig itself deeper into Miguel's heart. Miguel had never had a crush before, but there was bound to be a first. The boy guessed it was about time he'd fallen in love with someone, and if it had to be Hector... that wasn't to worst choice anyway. However bizarre and dishonest the man was, he just wanted to help Miguel with all his heart, and there was also that look in Hector's eyes when he'd stared at the bridge. He must really miss that person in the living world... or whatever kept him trying to get there anyway.

Miguel guessed enough time had already passed, so he reached for his guitar and took it in his hands and... strummed, waiting for the inevitable. And in two seconds Miguel was back in the Land Of The Dead, sitting on his ass on the concrete or whatever it was, seeing his family somewhere far away. At least, he thought it was them, it definitely looked like them.

"Thank god" Miguel breathed, scrambling himself up. He didn't know where he was, but he could still see de la Cruz' party house. This was where he was going, one way or another. His great-great-grandpa was the only way Miguel would get his precious answers.

 

So Miguel stormed off to de la Cruz' tower, hoping they'd let him in. He had no idea if it was known in the Land Of The Dead that Ernesto had a great-great-grandson, but was definitely WAS known was that that boy wasn't dead and instead was wandering around where only the dead were supposed to be. Miguel was pretty sure his chances weren't high but they weren't zero either. If only he could think of a way to sneak in... like Hector could have.

Miguel stopped at a railroad, nearly bumping into a streetcar speeding down it. He was lucky he'd noticed the wagon before it hit him, leaving the boy no chances at all. The tower was still standing high and proud, but it really didn't seem like Miguel had come even a little closer in what felt like hours. The stars were dimming slowly which meant sunrise was near. And Miguel had to hurry up. But how? Maybe... maybe he could use some help.

And it was so convenient for Miguel that in the next streetcar there was a group of musicians holding a paper with a big 1 printed on it. They all held different instruments, big and small, trumpets and drums and cellos and horns. He waved at them and jumped for the car. Miguel was somehow sure these men could help him get to de la Cruz.

The wagon driver slammed on the brakes, and the group of musicians stumbled out of the wagon, all staring at Miguel like he'd just commited the worst crime in history.

"What do you think you're doing, muchacho?" One of them asked angrily, bumping his cello on the ground.

"You could've been shattered!" Another shook his head disapprovingly.

"Guys?" Miguel began uncertainly. "I need to get to de la Cruz. I... I have some business to talk about with him. And, uh... I get the feeling you could help me with that."

"Indeed, we are going to his party" the second man said. "But what makes you think we'll help you?"

"You can't be older than thirteen!" The man with the horn noted, clicking his tongue. "What business could you possibly have with de la Cruz?"

"It's... kinda personal" Miguel waved it off. "Look. I'm a musician, I can... play something for you in return for a trip to de la Cruz'?"

"You? A musician?" The man with the drum laughed. "I can't believe my ears, and they no longer exist."

"Julio, be polite" that second man spoke again. "Maybe he is a musician. Let him do what he wants, and then we'll see."

Miguel smiled. "Think I could use your guitar?"

The man handed him his guitar, lifting his eyebrows.

Miguel took the guitar, weighing it in his hands. It was weird, after all these years of hiding in the attic with a homemade guitar, to finally hold a professional instrument and... not know what to do with it in front of other people. But these men would not wait forever, and Miguel knew it. So he cleared his throat and gathered all his courage, trying to think of a good song. He strummed a chord and immediately thought of Hector. He was a musician, too. He felt sad because Hector wouldn't get to hear his first performance, but not of the men coughed pointedly. When thinking of Hector, Miguel somehow recalled one of de la Cruz' songs, one that suited him well. So, Miguel strummed once more and began singing.

_What color is the sky_

_Ay mi amor, ay mi amor_

_You tell me that it's red_

_Ay mi amor, ay mi amor_

_Where should I put my shoes_

_Ay mi amor, ay mi amor_

_You say, "Put them on your head!"_

_Ay mi amor, ay mi amor!!_

The men looked at each other, smiling and whispering about something. The second man nodded approvingly, pride in his eyes.

_You make me um poco loco_

_Um poquititito loco_

_The way you keep me guessing_

_I'm nodding and I'm yessing_

_I'll count it as a blessing_

_That I'm only un poco loco!_

 

Hector was just creeping down a street already wearing his dress when he heard a voice singing his song. It was one of his favorites, one he couldn't apply to the person it had been meant for any longer. The voice was good, so god it hurt, it felt like the song was meant to be sung by this person. It had to be a child, about Miguel's age... Miguel?!

Hector peeked around the corner and noticed a band in violet costumes listening to Miguel playing guitar and singing like it was what he did every day. But he'd said he'd never performed before! Well, it sure sounded like he had. But it didn't matter, because Miguel's voice was just incredible. It made Hector smile, the way Miguel took his song and made it his own.

Hector was so busy listening he didn't notice the moment the song ended, and the next thing he knew was the musicians saying something like, "Yeah, kid, we'll get you to de la Cruz" and hopping in a streetcar.

"Shit!" Hector shouted, grabbing his head. Well, that was the only word that came to mind. He had JUST found Miguel and now he was lost again!! Not for Hector.

"Frida? Señora?" Came a voice from behind. "What are you doing here in this dark alley all alone?"

"Ah, you see" Hector pulled on his best Frida voice. "I was just trying to get to señor de la Cruz, but wanted to avoid the crowds, so I took the long path." Perhaps it could help not only with keeping the disguise, but with getting to de la Cruz as well.

"You could just have asked me, señora" the voice replied, and then Hector could see the man he was currently trying to fool. It was one of Frida's make-up artists, though Hector had no clue why'd she have them even after death. It was. It was no use lying to one of those at close proximity, he'd rather tell Miguel they were relatives before approaching that man. And yes, he had doubts about telling the boy. Of course, it would save both of them a lot of trouble but... he was quite a poor excuse for a great-great-grandpa. And that kid, the talented musician he'd just met deserved better relatives... even if it meant the song thief Ernesto de la Cruz. And there was also that problem with feelings, but Hector didn't want to approach it, not now, not ever.

"I think I will continue on my own" Hector said. "Gracias for offering to help though." And then he carefully walked away, mimicking Frida as much as possible.

Hector jumped in the next streetcar which led directly to de la Cruz' tower. He just sat there on the balcony, trying to look like Frida for all to see and at the same time hiding from omnipresent pairs of eyes. He didn't want unnecessary attention.

 

**

 

The trip to de la Cruz' tower was much harder than if Hector'd just agreed to the make-up artist's proposition but it was safer that way. And indeed, upon arrival no one noticed anything out of the ordinary, and the guard let him in without raising an eyebrow and with a "It's an honor" said in an adoring voice. Hector climbed into the wagon, fixing the dress up hastily, hoping he'd arrived before Miguel had made the worst mistake of his life.

In fact, Hector was the first to arrive in the tower, Miguel wasn't even there yet. That was good; it gave Hector precious time to rethink what he would say to Miguel. "De la Cruz is not your great-great-grandpa, I am"? "Hey, you know what, we're related!"? "So you see, the romantic attraction we feel for each other is wrong because I'm your great-great-grandpa"? Wait... what? How did that even... Nevermind. These were just thoughts, and Hector had to make something up so that Miguel would listen and maybe try to understand.

"Señora Frida, it is an honor! I thought you couldn't come?" Someone all too familiar asked, and Hector whipped around to see de la Cruz. It was no use trying to pretend, but at least he could buy himself some time.

"Oh, um... you see" Hector began, completely oblivious that his voice was betraying him.

"Señora? Wait, you are... Hector!" De la Cruz exclaimed, and Hector finally decided to tear this masquerade and quickly changed into his usual clothes as he'd done it many times before. "Oh, amigo. Death has not been kind to you."

"And whose fault is that?!" Hector exclaimed, he was sick and tired of this mess. De la Cruz was no hero! HE was the thief everyone proclaimed Hector to be! "You stole my songs, my guitar, my everything! And why? I died, Ernesto! And this is how you repay me?!"

"But you died" de la Cruz protested. "I wanted to find a way your songs could live on. I wanted to show the world how talented you used to be."

"Yeah, right" Hector hummed. "And this is exactly why you were so mad the night I decided to leave home for my wife and daughter."

"You had a wife and daughter?" A small voice came from behind a column, and Miguel came out from behind it. "You've never told me any of it."

"Miguel?" Hector gawked. "What are you... how much have you heard?" He certainly didn't want the kid to lose faith in his personal hero just yet.

"You... had a home and a family" Miguel deadpanned. "You loved them. That's nice. Why does no one remember you then?"

"Excuse me" de la Cruz intervened suddenly. "Who is this young man and what is he doing in here?"

"Miguel? Ah..." Hector had no time to think of a believable lie when Miguel said the only thing he wasn't suppose to say.

"I'm from the living world" he announced, wiping the dye from his face. "My name is Miguel, and I am your great-great-grandson, señor de la Cruz. I'm here for your blessing." He extended a hand to de la Cruz before Hector could protest. "Is it true?" Miguel asked suddenly, after a long pause, still waiting for de la Cruz to take his hand. "That you... Stole Hector's songs and guitar? Because I heard..."

"What you heard is only a bunch of things a crazy man said" de la Cruz smiled, taking Miguel's hand in his. "I did do it, but only to honor Hector's death. He died in such a gruesome way... but I only wanted to celebrate what he'd done before it. I told him I'd move heaven and earth for my amigo, and I kept my word. Hector... he's just so lonely. It is indeed a pity no one remembers him."

"Miguel! Don't listen to him!" Hector cried, ripping his great-great-grandson from de la Cruz' grasp and hauling him close to his chest. "He stole my life from me!"

Miguel, after regaining his breath from the sudden change of location, looked up at Hector with big eyes and let out a gasp. "What are you..."

"Hector, you don't know anything. Now give me my great-great-grandson back. He's MY family, not yours."

"Oh, it's like you know everything about him" Hector bit back, not wanting to reveal Miguel's real parentage just yet.

"Heaven and Earth?" Miguel asked suddenly, surprisingly making no move to free himself from Hector's arms. "It's like in that movie where there was this guy, and Ernesto was also leaving him and they drank to this toast and he... poisoned the drink." Miguel looked around quickly. "Look!" He pointed a finger somewhere behind de la Cruz, making the man turn around to see."What... Miguel, you are confusing... wait" Hector purses his non-existent lips. "That night I wanted to leave, and de la Cruz asked me for a final drink. A final toast. Then I packed my things and he walked me to the train station. Suddenly, I felt queasy and fell to the ground, thinking it was something I ate... or something I drank."

"Amigo, you are confusing movies and reality" de la Cruz said, turning back to Hector. "Now give me my child, or I will have to call security!"

Miguel stirred in Hector's arms suddenly, whispering something like "please don't let me go". And then he started speaking out loud, but not as confidently as before, and that made Hector smile subtly.

"Y-you're the good guy, right?" Miguel's voice quivered. "I mean... you couldn't have murdered your friend. It would be too evil."

"Oh, hijo" de la Cruz' face softened. "Of course not. I'm not a murderer" he looked away for some reason and then screamed, "Guards!"

A few armed men stormed in, ready to fight any unseen force at a whim. Hector shivered, he felt they had come for him. He just had to hope de la Cruz wouldn't kill Miguel... as he'd killed him all those years ago.

"Can you please take care of this young man" de la Cruz spoke coldly, and Hector screamed as Miguel was ripped from him and he was dragged away somewhere while Miguel was left one-on-one with this monster of a man he'd once trusted with his life.

 

Miguel felt lost, he didn't know what to do. Trust Ernesto and just go home with the thought that Hector, this nice guy he'd met and come to like a lot, was crazy? Perhaps he could try to get around this problem but... what he'd seen, how cruelly Ernesto had treated Hector and the movie... all of it made Miguel think that maybe Hector wasn't wrong when he said de la Cruz was a murderer. Perhaps the only way was to ask.

"Señor de la Cruz? It's nearly sunrise, and I need to get home soon... But Hector and I came to be really good friends. Is it possible to see him again just one more time?"

"Ah, Miguel" de la Cruz shoot his head. "Unfortunately, Hector won't be available for meetings anytime soon. And I really do need to get you home. I just need a..." Ernesto walked away to find the petal, and Miguel started thinking that maybe he could sacrifice himself and stay after sunrise to save Hector. If he ran away now, somehow freed Hector from the guards, he'd be fine and free. But it was extremely likely that it would take a lot of time, which meant Miguel would have to stay here forever. Maybe this wasn't too high of a price to pay... if he just had the courage...

His thoughts were interrupted when de la Cruz stood on one knee in front of him, holding the petal.

"Miguel, it has been an honor" he said proudly. "I give you my blessing..."

Nothing happened.

"I give you my blessing" de la Cruz repeated, but the petal didn't quite react.

"What the..."

And then it started to piece together. Hector's reaction when he saw Miguel being pulled away from him by Imelda. The way Hector would protect Miguel no matter what, the way he came running into this place, knowing full well he wasn't welcome. The way he'd treat him, pet his head, almost like a lover or a... father. Yes. It wasn't de la Cruz who'd been banished from his family's ofrenda, it was the misunderstood Hector! He'd tried to come back home, but he'd been murdered! Of course, Imelda was his wife and Coco was his daughter he'd been trying to cross the bridge for! Miguel wasn't a genius, but he could figure out that much. And this was why Imelda had given him the cold shoulder that time... And that also meant... no first crush for Miguel. Cause it was just gross on so many levels.

"Hijo? Miguel?" De la Cruz asked, confused, but Miguel didn't care anymore. He just needed to find Hector RIGHT NOW and tell him everything. What if... what if Hector thought Miguel had thrown himself into a murderer's arms? What if he thought Miguel had betrayed him? What if... there were so many what if's that it was too much for a normal twelve-year-old boy to handle. But Miguel wasn't just any twelve-year-old boy. He was himself, and he would find a way.

"I'm not your hijo!" He exclaimed, jumping a few feet away from de la Cruz. "My real great-great-grandpa is Hector!" And with that, Miguel ran off to save his real relative and explain the facts of life to him. Even if it cost Miguel his life.

 

**

 

Miguel was standing just outside the party tower, not knowing where to go. He had no idea where those men could've brought Hector, so he had to figure out a way to find out. Screaming was what came to mind, but it was extremely likely de la Cruz or the guards would hear him and he'd end up in a dungeon or worse. But what COULD Miguel do then? That was when an idea occurred to him. What if he did scream and did get thrown into the blasted dungeon, because that's where Hector could also be? That didn't sound promising, but it was more than nothing.

"Heeeey!" Miguel shouted at the top of his lungs. "Someone help me! I'm being murdered!" That was a little to much maybe, but it was bound to work. In a second there were guards all around Miguel, dragging him somewhere behind the tower. There, the boy noticed a sinkhole.

"No-no-no, please, I'm sorry!" Miguel pleaded, he was scared shitless of heights and the hole was probably at least fifty feet deep. "Please, anything but this!"

"You get what you deserve" one of the guards barked at him, and Miguel was sent flying down the sinkhole, and he was screaming. Loud. He couldn't even turn face-down to see what awaited him at the bottom. What if it was just stone floor?..

It wasn't stone floor. It was water. It still hurt, but at least Miguel could swim pretty well, so in a minute his head was above the water, and he was breathing rapidly. Shit. What had he gotten himself into?.. How was he going to look for Hector sitting in this garbage hole?

"Miguel? Kid?" A strangled voice came from behind, and Miguel whipped around to see Hector there, on his knees. "God, what have I done?"

"No, what have I done?" Miguel corrected, swimming to the shore and sitting down next to Hector. "How are we going to get me home to put your photo up where it's supposed to be when we're down here? I messed up, sorry Hector..." Tears began to flow down Miguel's face, and immediately there was an arm around him.

"Hey, Miguel, don't cry. Come on, we'll think of something. Gosh, what happened to the man I trusted with all my life? First he murdered me, and now he was trying to kill such a young boy."

"Shh, Hector, it's my fault really" Miguel turned his face up. "I screamed to get attention, because it was the only way to find you. Please, don't... Oh, Hector, just don't be mad, okay? I... figured something out back in de la Cruz' tower. You're my great-great-grandpa, not him. Mama Imelda was your wife, and mama Coco... was your daughter."

"Oh Miguel" Hector sighed. "I knew it. I've known ever since Imelda came to take you from me. That was when I realized you were her family, so you're... mine as well."

"You... knew?" Miguel asked in astonishment. "Wha... Hector, why didn't you say it back when de la Cruz was there?"

"Do you think it would've helped in any way? Miguel, de la Cruz thinks I am many things, but he does not think I'm crazy, trust me. He would've, of course, believed me when I said I was your great-great-grandfather, not him, and he would've gotten even madder. He would've killed you, Miguel, he doesn't want anyone to know that... well. The only way he could have saved you was if he bought you were his family. And... apparently, it worked."

"I haven't thought of that really" Miguel confessed. "But that would have saved you! Hector..." suddenly, he was cut off by a series of shivers coming from Hector. He first turned orange, then yellow, and then all his bones shook uncontrollably, and he fell down onto the stones, unlocking his arms. "What... was that?"

"She's forgetting me" Hector said weakly. "When she does... I'll disappear from this world. Just like I've told you."

"But we can't let that happen!" Miguel protested. "What if she forgets you before I can come back and tell her all about you? What if you disappear right now and I won't even be able to tell you..." Miguel's voice broke into sobs.

"Tell me what?" Hector asked, smirking slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, stop with all the sarcasm, Hector! I'm serious! I... I don't know if anyone has ever told you that, but you're an amazing person. You're caring, devoted, fearless and determined, you're so... you" Miguel was still sobbing. "And I... came to love you the way you are."

"Oh" Hector was clearly touched. "I... thank you, Miguel. I appreciate that at least one of my family still loves me."

"No- you don't understand! I- love you, and I mean it! Not like I love mama Imelda or mama Coco but..." Miguel bit his lip. He was sure Hector had gotten it right this time, but he wasn't sure what to expect. Not that he even cared at this point.

"Miguel..." Hector sighed. "You should understand that what you're feeling is..."

"Wrong, yeah" Miguel cut him off. "You're my relative, I'm twelve and you're forever stuck in your twenties, you're dead and I'm alive... yeah, I know. But I just can't help it... Anyway, I just wanted you to know. It doesn't matter."

Miguel caressed Hector's hair and got up, walking away from him. He needed to figure out a way to get them out of this sinkhole, now that Hector knew there wasn't much left to do here. Miguel could only hope that he wouldn't be hated now. He felt so teared up after this confession that nothing really mattered. He knew he couldn't even hope for feelings in return, but at least maybe an understanding. His soul was wrecked. It felt painful to even think about what Hector felt at that moment, it even hurt to think of Imelda and how much Hector probably still loved her.

What he totally didn't expect was a pair of arms hugging him from behind and a voice fighting back tears.

"I kind of knew it too. Surprise, yeah? I figured it out long before, well... myself. It's weird to say it but... I think that after all these years being forever twenty-one I'm ACTUALLY twenty-one again. Because I feel like an adolescent, isn't it funny? I was considered an adult in my time, but now I suppose it still counts as a teenager. And I feel like it. You know? After meeting you, I found out what wrong really was, starting from de la Cruz' betrayal and murder and... well, then there's you. Cheerful, hopeful, determined, optimistic. You remind me of Imelda a lot, I mean the girl I met all those years ago.

"She was just like you. I think she was fifteen when we first met? Eager to find adventures, eager to love someone. I fell in love with that eagerness. But when I see what she has become after all these years... I can't believe this is my Imelda. And now you. So like her, but so different. You're young and free... but you're so caring and passionate, EAGER to save someone you didn't even know at the time... repeated history, I guess."

Miguel had no idea why Hector had told him all that, but it didn't matter, not really. What he'd implied though... did it mean he reciprocated Miguel's feelings? There was only one way to find out...

 

They didn't have the chance to though. Miguel didn't even feel it at first, he was preparing to do something he wouldn't be proud of later but then... he realized there was something in his eyes. He blinked, looking at Hector and seeing a... shadow from his hat? That's when it hit both of them. Hector stumbled back and closed his mouth with his hands in horror. Miguel raised his skeleton hands to his face and... felt bones. There were no cheeks, no lips, just bones. He lifted up his shirt to see white ribs and his spinal cord... with nothing on them.

"Aah" Miguel moaned and fell back, almost like when he'd seen his finger turn to bones this night for the first time.

"Hey, hey, Miguel" Hector rushed to him, picking him up in his arms. But he didn't manage to hold Miguel properly, because gold light shattered through him, and he fell on his knees with Miguel on top of his thighs.

"No no no, Hector!" Miguel said, breaking into tears. "No, she can't forget you... I promised..." he started crying. "Now I won't be able to tell her about you... tell her the truth. And de la Cruz is just going to get away with everything! Again..." Miguel was choking on tears.

"Shh, it's okay, Miguel" Hector shushed him. "The real problem is that you're stuck here forever. And we can't get you out now that the sun has risen..." he bowed his head. "I promised you I would get you out of here. And now I can't..."

"What do we do?" They simultaneously realized that because both their lives depended on whether Miguel came back home or not they were both dead. And if Miguel was at least stuck here, Hector would disappear. Die the Final Death. And it was horrible.

"Miguel?!" Suddenly a Voice came from somewhere up there, and Miguel didn't even bother to look, he knew who it was already. "What are you doing down there with that man?! He's the reason we didn't make it!" Oh, Imelda sounded so furious. "And now you're stuck in here forever! Because of him!"

"No, mama Imelda, it was all because of me! I thought de la Cruz was my family, but he's not, Hector is! And I wasted so much time when I could've just asked for Hector's blessing!"

"I'm getting you out of there, now. And he" Imelda pointed at Hector. "Will get the fate he deserves."

"But he doesn't! Please listen" Miguel begged, but in vain. Imelda flew down into the pit and helped Miguel onto the spirit guide, humming in response to Hector's silent pleas.

"Mama Imelda!" Miguel tried again. "Do you know how he died?"

"No, and I do not care." The strict woman replied, preparing Pepita for the flight.

"De La Cruz murdered him when he tried to come back home to you and Coco! Because of his songs! He wanted to become famous, but he just got killed by his friend!"

"As if it matters now" Imelda was, however, not touched at all. "You're dead, and he is too."

"But Coco is forgetting him! He'll disappear forever if we don't do something!"

That seemed to work, and Imelda's face softened for a second.

"Fine" she snapped. "Get on. But don't expect my forgiveness!"

 

Hector was, meanwhile, trying to think of a way that Miguel could possibly be sent home. He didn't like the idea he'd be dead at twelve one bit, but there weren't ANY known cases of a living person in the Land Of The Dead, especially not ones where he returned after sunrise. Sadly, nothing came to mind. Oh, Miguel... the sweet, talented young musician with a promising future he'd come to love couldn't just die. There had to be another way.

Okay, Hector stilled himself. Let's think back to the start. How did Miguel get here? He'd said something about taking de la Cruz' guitar so... it was stealing from the dead? That's what it took to get from one world to the other? So Miguel stole from the dead on the holy night and got cursed. So what they really needed to do was to break the curse. The curse, as far as they knew, could only be undone by a blessing from a family member, and no later than sunrise, because it was the end of the holy night. So... Miguel wasn't quite dead. He was... cursed. There were many ways to break them though, not just this stupid one.

Usually in children's fairy tales he'd read Coco long ago, when a princess got cursed, she went to sleep and couldn't wake up herself. Kinda like death, Hector smiled to himself. He was getting somewhere. How did they wake up then? What came to mind was a true love's kiss. But this was just crap. Miguel wasn't a princess in distress. But maybe... maybe there was another way.

So, Miguel got his curse by stealing from the dead. What if it could be undone by... giving to the dead? Why hadn't anyone had this idea before? This could work even after sunrise! It wasn't likely, but it was a possibility. But what could Miguel give to the dead?

Payoff.

Miguel got here partially because of de la Cruz. Perhaps restoring order and GIVING de la Cruz what he deserved would get the boy back? Even if it didn't, they would at least restore justice.

"Hey Miguel" he patted the boy's shoulder carefully.

"Huh?" Miguel turned around. Hector was definitely against Miguel staying here, but gosh was he pretty as a skeleton. He was simply adorable. Hector just wanted to pet his hair so bad... which he did, and which earned him a GAZE from Imelda.

"So I've been thinking about your trip here" Hector said finally. "And I had an idea about how you could get back."

Hope glowed in Miguel's eyes as he looked at Hector expectantly.

"So you see" Hector continued. "The reason you're here is de la Cruz. Kinda. You stole from him. What if you give him what he deserves - a kick in the ass, and poof! You're back in your world."

Miguel didn't have the chance to say anything when Imelda turned around and said, "I'm taking the rest of my family and we go to de la Cruz. However dumb you may be, this is actually a good idea."

 

 

**

 

Ernesto de la Cruz was pacing in his dressing room. Too much had happened in one night. Meeting a boy, supposedly his family, having him and Hector find everything out and... leaving them to rot in the pit. Sadly, both of them. Ernesto wasn't completely heartless, he pitied the two, but he did what had to be done in order to maintain balance and order, and this was part of it. He was expecting Hector to find out and some point anyway.

What he didn't expect was Hector, this boy (now a proper skeleton), Hector's ex-wife and the rest of their puny family barging in on his doorstep. He knew it was well past sunrise, so the boy had to be dead. What was the point?

He must have said it out loud, because the boy (Miguel, it was Miguel) replied firmly, "Restoring order. Seizing my moment."

Ernesto knew he was cornered. He didn't know what to do. Miguel and Hector knew everything, and there was no way they hadn't told the others. Lying wouldn't work.

"As if you can prove anything" he laughed, all too confident. "The sun has risen, you can't get out of here now, can you, Miguel? You won't be able to tell anyone anything! The only thing you could possibly do is try to convince the dead. But what would it matter? As long as they remember me in the living world I will exist in this one no matter what!"

"We are not trying to prove anything to anyone!" Miguel answered, his voice stiff. "We just want to restore peace and justice! Make the life of a man YOU murdered livable!"

"Oh, that's nice. What will you do to do it? Run with signs all around? Please. No one will listen to you!"

"They will listen to music" Hector said suddenly, his voice leveled and calm. "What will they do when they find out I wrote all your songs?"

"But how can you prove they are yours?" De la Cruz asked. He was sure that no one would believe this pack of peasants. Who in their right mind would listen to them?

"Letters" Hector replied just as calmly. "There are letters I wrote Coco when we were away. There, I have all the proof we need."

"But they are in the living world where you have no access! And even if you did, you can't take them here!" De la Cruz laughed. It was really funny, the way they tried to defend themselves. Only HE knew how to seize his moment.

"We don't need them anymore" Miguel said suddenly and pointed upwards. Ernesto lifted his eyes to see... a camera in the ceiling. He'd just exposed himself to everyone in the Land Of The Dead. Oh no.

And then Miguel opened the door and left, his family following him. Hector was the last, his gaze pitiful.

"It didn't have to come to this, old friend" he said, eyes locked with Ernesto's. "We could've made our dream come true. Just... maybe later. But no, you had to seize your moment. Well... I'm sorry, amigo. You did seize it. And you got what you deserved." And then he left, leaving the door open and letting thousands of people see him, see Ernesto and look at him with shock in their eyes.

"You didn't" someone muttered, looking at him with wide eyes.

"MURDERER!" Someone else screamed, pointing his finger at Ernesto. "GET HIM!"

And de la Cruz ran. He was never the sporty type, but he ran faster than ever, not even looking where he was running. Before Ernesto knew it, he found himself standing on the edge of a platform... with a giant bell above it.

And then he heard a cold voice of the same man, "Do it." After that, a lever was pulled somewhere, and the bell fell down, crushing him the second time. Only this time he couldn't die, he just felt tremendous pain.

"You got your payoff" the man said in the same cold tone.

And Ernesto was left alone, everyone walking away from him. He didn't quite see it, he only heard footsteps and then silence. That was when the mighty hero of many, Ernesto de la Cruz, shed his first tear in the Land Of The Dead.

 

**

 

"Phew" tio Oscar wiped the non-existent sweat offing his forehead. "We're done."

Miguel smiled widely and reached for Hector intuitively, wanting to hug the man. He didn't even care his whole family was here.

"Hey Miguel" Hector grinned, cuddling the boy closer. "We did it. YOU did it. I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you" Miguel beamed back, playing with Hector's red tie in between his bony fingers. He didn't even care if he returned or not at this point. Either way, he'd be with his family. And he didn't want to leave Hector, not now when fate gave him another chance to... what if Hector disappeared... he was so close to...

Miguel's fingers reached up for Hector's cheek and ran over it, their owner ignoring the horrified voice of Imelda and others. He got braver, seeing Hector's calm reaction and a comforting look, and dared to cup his neck...

This was when Miguel's fingers suddenly passed through Hector's bones, and he noticed he was... disappearing. Fading. The curse was letting him go. No no no no, he couldn't leave now! He was so close to... no he couldn't do this!

"Hector I..." Miguel rushed to speak. "I know you're with Imelda and she may not have forgiven you just yet but you live each other and I don't want to interfere but I feel more confinement than ever and I just want to say that..."

"No, don't say anything, Miguel" Hector attempted to calm him down. "I know, kid, I know. You don't have to."

"No, I do!" Miguel protested, feeling the numbness in his throat, and, being scared to disappear faster than he ought to, starting to speak again. "Hector, I-

-love you" Miguel finished, but realized he'd been talking to the concrete floor. He was laying on his stomach in de la Cruz' tomb, guitar next to him. Hector's idea had worked. But... was this really what Miguel wanted? Sure he wanted to get back, become a musician and live a normal life... without those he'd come to know in the Land Of The Dead. And Imelda didn't even forgive Hector fully! And the music ban wasn't off yet! There was so much left to do... but now wasn't the time. Now was the time to go home.

 

A YEAR LATER...

 

Miguel was happy... kind of. The music ban was indeed off when he told everyone about de la Cruz' real story and explained Hector to his family. De la Cruz' statue got a board with just two words "FORGET YOU", and Hector was famous now. Coco turned out to have been thinking about her papá all along when she heard Miguel was gone. That was why Hector hadn't disappeared when the sun had risen. She somehow knew more than the average person. Perhaps this was because she was already half-there, and she died a month later. They all cried, but Miguel knew where she was, and that she was loved. He knew Hector would give her the biggest hug and tell her how much he cared for her. He knew mama Imelda would kiss her on the forehead and remind her that her family was there for her, forever. But who was there for Hector?

These questions kept Miguel awake all year long. He felt like there was more to do in the Land Of The Dead than what he had done. So it was the Day Of The Dead again, and everyone was cheering. His little sister was practicing her violin skills, his mother was humming a familiar tune. But Miguel wasn't about to play his guitar and sing happily. He knew his ancestors would come tonight, and he just had to try to communicate with them. And if he couldn't... then, well...

The night went on and on. Miguel closed himself in his room, bracing himself for what he was about to do, constantly looking at the sky. Finally, finally it was near dawn, and everyone must have already left. It was time, then.

Miguel crept into the ofrenda room, looking at all the food before him. Surely it was an offense to eat the food meant for the dead?..

Five minutes later, and Miguel found himself standing next to the bridge of bright yellow petals, bracing himself. He knew there was no going back, but there was business waiting for him in the Land Of The Dead. He stepped on the bridge and began to cross it, not even bothering to look around.

"Miguel?" Someone asked, shocked. Miguel turned his head to see a bypasser just to recognize his great-great-grandpa.

"Hector. I think I didn't finish something last time..."

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so this IS the end. It's not meant to have a sequel. I think the actual ending is kind of implied, but you can think of your own. Anyways, I hope you liked it!


End file.
